


To Not Touch Your Skin

by misslizanne



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-17
Updated: 2014-02-17
Packaged: 2018-01-12 18:30:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1195185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misslizanne/pseuds/misslizanne





	To Not Touch Your Skin

She walks out of the town hall into the night, needing a moment to breathe in the aftermath of what could have been a more severe encounter with the Wicked Witch.

The Wicked Witch. Right. She was here and her mother is Snow White and her father is Prince Charming and Henry was adopted by the Evil Queen.

It’s too much to wrap her head around, and even though it’s the second time she’s had to learn it, it still feels like it’s some bizarre dream she’ll wake up from. But she knows it’s not some delusion she’s created, it’s all very real, ever since the memories flooded her mind on that cold New York City street, her brain pounding at the influx of new ones overwriting the past eleven years of her life. She remembers the way he pulled her into him, crashing her trembling body into his steady one, stroking her hair, whispering inaudible nothings into her ear until her body calmed, and everything shifted and all of a sudden this stranger was Hook— _her_ Hook—and she recalls the way her fingers clung to him as if her life would cease to exist without him.

He’s the only thing that makes sense, the only thing that seems real amongst the chaos that is this strange seaside town. She needs real, because this whole place is driving her insane. And yet, he’s Captain Hook, a pirate from a story, and he should be fictional. But he’s so very real…

She doesn’t realize how lost she is in her thoughts until she’s at the docks, knocking on the door of a pirate.

"Swan?" he murmurs, her name flowing off his lips like a hushed secret, his face partially illuminated by the small sliver of moonlight peeking through the window, creating just enough of a shadow to retain the enigma that he is to her. "What are you doing here?"

She barges through the door, past him into his quarters, her fingers passing nervously through her golden strands. “I need to feel something that’s real.”

He scratches the back of his neck, confused by her request. “I beg your pardon, love?”

She wants to keep her back to him, convinced that if she turns around, he’ll only pull her into the spell that he is. And yet, she gives herself that small moment, pivoting to see him, awestruck that she’s even remotely here.

"This whole town is full of freaking storybook characters," she rattles off as he moves forward in an attempt to calm down her frenzied state. "Even you."

He grimaces, realizing how overwhelming these past few weeks must have been for her, considering in the short amount of time she’s had her memories back, they’ve faced numerous obstacles at the hands of their newest foe. He reaches out his hand, brushing his thumb over the top of her palm. “Aye, even me.”

She shakes her head, looking out through the ship’s window to the dark starry night, the one that looks so similar to Neverland, those memories popping into her mind for a glimmer of a moment before they fall back into the jumbled up mess of her brain. “I just need to know this isn’t a dream again. I need…  _you_.”

He moves even closer, his breath hot on her face as his lips hang dangerously close to hers. He smells like rum and leather and sea and salt and she remembers the dreams she used to have, of a swashbuckling pirate sparking a fire within her, burning her with his sapphire gaze and his too perfect words, her mind always assuming they were a fantasy, bewildered by the imprint they left on her upon awakening every morning.

"Are you sure, love?" he questions, his hand disappearing from her entwined grasp, gliding over her hip bone.

She chuckles breathlessly at his claim, as if he even had to ask, and she feels a slight tingle rush through her body, her tongue darting out to lick her lips. His eyes are dark and so goddamn  _inviting_ that she has no choice but to give in.

"You’re the only thing that feels real," she whispers, her exhale tingling his sea-blistered skin before she tugs at his vest, crashing her lips over his, immediately tilting her head to allow him access, his tongue darting in, stroking hers slowly, almost too slow, her entire body burning with every desire she suppresses when he’s near. 

His hand creeps up her torso, working quickly to unbutton her shirt, revealing the lace of her bra. He presses open-mouthed kisses down her neck, grinning against her skin when she lets out a small whimper at the loss of his lips pressed against hers. He nibbles at the skin above the lace as he pushes the shirt slightly off her shoulders with his hand and hook.

She shuffles them towards the bed, his strong arms picking her up and laying her down gently on the mattress. He unbuttons his vest, his eyes examining Emma as she shrugs her shirt off before he hovers over her, crashing his lips back down onto hers, searing her with every ounce of care and adoration as he grinds his hardened arousal against her.

She wonders where they would be now without the curse, if she hadn’t lost her memory, if they hadn’t lost a whole  _year._ The thought propels her, reaching behind her back to unclasp her bra, tossing it carelessly towards the floor. It’s in that moment that he pushes himself up on his forearms, his expression soft as he gazes over the rise and fall of her chest, setting every inch of her skin ablaze. 

"So beautiful," he purrs, dipping his head down to devour her breast, sucking on a nipple, caressing the other with his rough hand. She arches into him, her soft moan echoing against the walls like music to his ears. He lets his hand wander down, unbuttoning her jeans, slowly pulling the zipper down. She bites her lip, feeling his fingers dip below the lacy hem hugging her abdomen, trained fingers that already touched her, in the hazy dreams where she didn’t know his name or his purpose, just knew she needed him, knew she  _wanted_ him.

She tugs at the fabric covering his shoulders, protesting the lack of his skin on hers, and he sits up for a moment to pull his shirt over his head, tossing it alongside the other garments strewn across the floor. He tugs on the loop of her jeans, sliding them down before his fingers resume their work, caressing her folds with strokes that leave her whimpering under his touch, her hips rocking against him in search of friction.

"I want you," she mumbles, as he trails up her neck, placing fiery kisses in his wake. "I want to know you’re real."

He flashes a predatory grin as he dips one finger deep inside of her, then two, using his thumb to rub against the delicate bundle of nerves, sending flashes of pleasure through her body. He continues pumping in and out until he hears her breaths grow shallow, her fists clamoring at the bedsheets for leverage, her chest heaving against his skin before she tenses underneath him, white-hot heat coursing through her veins faster than she’d expected. 

She keeps her eyes closed, reveling in the hazy aftermath of her orgasm,   unaware that his hook is ripping her underwear, his lips sucking on his fingers before he unlaces his pants, releasing just enough of himself to brush against her center. She shudders at the warmth he’s offering her, the feeling of him throbbing against her core sending shivers down her spine.

"Does that feel real to you, love?" he asks, his voice hoarse and thick, filled with lust and want and she believes he needs her just as badly as she needs him, as if the past year was too much for either of them to bear. She knows he remembers it, a whole year without her touch or laugh or smile, and she realizes she has to give him this, has to let him know how real she is as well because  _this_ may have never existed, may have stayed a wishful dream in both of their minds.

He thrusts into her ever so slowly, letting himself fill her up, her body adjusting to his size. He pulls out just as slow, groaning at the feeling of himself sliding against her walls before slamming into her again, her back arching off the bed as his thrusts ram into her at a steady speed, his mouth dipping down to take her nipple between his teeth, a sharp cry escaping her throat as his tongue flicks over the burn. 

She wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him up to crash into his lips, their bodies moving in time with one another, both searching for that much-needed release, realizing how long it’s been for either of them, knowing they’ll both find it soon.

He grunts hard, his thrusts growing erratic as he can’t find the focus to kiss her, his forehead falling against hers. She leans back to see the wrecked expression covering his face, his body trying desperately to find her release first, holding himself back, putting her needs before his own. She continues rolling her hips against his, grinning at the amount of desire hidden within the depths of his intoxicating gaze. She whispers his real name over and over again, caressing his face with her hands, knowing that she’ll only know he’s real and true if she lets him fall apart because of her, if she puts him first, just as he’s always done with her.

"Come for me, Killian," she murmurs and he drops his head to the crook of her neck, unable to breath, his body moving at an uneven pace until he shudders, releasing every last drop into her, the sudden rush of heat sending her over the edge, enveloping her body as she cries out his name, her fingernails grasping at his back, his teeth biting down hard on her collarbone.

They lay there for a while, covered in sweat, their slick skin sticking to one another as they attempt to regain their composure, everything feeling suddenly real for all the right reasons.


End file.
